


Forever and a day

by feathers_n_silk



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oneshot, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22208062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathers_n_silk/pseuds/feathers_n_silk
Summary: "There are no beautiful surfaces, without a terrible depth"And he knows he is a little too needy, a little too unstable, a little too insecure. He wishes he could fix himself, not for himself, but because Robbe deserves it. God knows Robbe deserves the world, the universe, everything and he desperately hopes he could give it all to him.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 3
Kudos: 92





	Forever and a day

The thing about art is that there are no correct interpretations of its meaning. Art is just art, it just exists. In that kitten by that dumpster, in the first rain of the season, in that sound of a pinging cash register, in the arms of your lover, in the laughter of your mother. It’s everywhere. It is not limited to a single sense, it is what makes you _feel._ Anything that evokes emotions is art. 

Robbe for Sander is art, not because he’s beautiful, but because he makes him ** _feel._**

He just wishes he could translate those emotions on paper. That curve of his dimple, those crinkles around his eyes, the way his hair curl around his ears, the way his eyes light up when he smiles, the way his hands curl into Sander’s shirt when they kiss. 

The pencil snaps in half from how hard he’s been clutching it. The white sheet in front of him is as blank it was an hour ago, as blank as it was six hours ago, as blank as it was sixteen hours ago. 

And he can’t make himself look at it anymore but he doesn’t have the energy to make himself move either so he stays put, unmoving as he has been for the past eight hours. He tips his head back and sighs, he wishes he could feel anything other than the cold emptiness that has been building up in the pit of his stomach since the past few hours.

He should be feeling frustrated, should want to rip his hair out, but it’s like his insides are all frozen up and it feels as if, as if he’ll never be warm again.

**_“And true love waits in haunted attics…… just don’t leave, don’t leave”_ **

God he hasn’t heard that song in a long long time. It brings back a sense of longing so strong he feels tears build up and he lets them fall. He longs for him. He wants to call him, ask him to visit, ask him to stay. _He longs for him._ He wishes he could just pick up the phone and call, just to hear his voice say that little hello. _He longs for him._ He knows that Robbe would answer in a heartbeat, would smile and softly whisper _I love you_ in his honeyed voice. He longs and _longs and **longs** for him._

He turns his head towards the wall he painted autumn rhythm on. The only wall that isn’t bare. It spans on the entirety of it. He feels the chaos in painting ground him, just a little. He remembers painting it during one of his manic episodes. He remembers how cathartic it had been, seeing the mess in his head being translated onto a wall.

He loves the mess of lines, loves the imperfect splotches of black paint in places. It’s his worst work and yet it is his favourite one. 

He pulls open the drawer, the one with the false bottom and takes out a cigarette. He probably shouldn’t be smoking, not while he’s still on his medication but he does it anyway. It burns down his lungs and yet, and yet it doesn’t quell the ache that’s beginning to settle in his bones.

Relationships, he thinks, have a penchant for tethering on the edge of getting suffocating, toxic.

_“ **Running over the same old ground, and how he found, the same old fears, wish you were here”**_

And he knows he is a little too needy, a little too unstable, a little too insecure. He wishes he could fix himself, not for himself, but because Robbe deserves it. God knows Robbe deserves the world, the universe, everything and he desperately hopes he could give it all to him. But he only has himself to offer, and he would do so with a song in his heart and a smile on his face. 

So he doesn’t call him even when he can barely see past the intense yearning he feels. He doesn’t want to depend on him, doesn’t want to become a chore for Robbe, doesn’t want to become toxic. He doesn’t, he _doesn’t._

  
  
  


Another song ends and Sander lights up another cigarette. The door knob twists and the door opens. He drags his eyes away from the window towards the door and there stood Robbe in all of his windswept glory. And all the breath rushes inside his lungs and the incessant chants of he’s here, _he’s here, he’s **here**_ cacophonous in his brain.

**_“If you knew how I miss you, you would not stay away today. Don’t you know how I need you?”_ **

He hates the way the euphoric expression on his face falls as his eyes flick towards the cigarette in his hand. He hates himself a little more as the excitement drains away as Robbe parts his lips to whisper his name in that sad sad voice and he can’t bear it. 

He extinguishes the cigarette and stands, intent on closing the distance, intent on apologizing, just something to make that sadness go away. But Robbe meets him halfway and Sander’s throat seizes.

_“ **Stay here, my dear, with me”**_

He puts his hands around Robbe’s waist and it’s gentle, it is gentle the way his arms curl around his shoulders. He buries his face in Robbe’s neck and inhales. The ache subsides a little and he feels warmth back seeping in.

_“ **Together, never parted; just you, just me, my love”**_

They’re swaying, slowly to the music, and he feels a kiss being pressed into his shoulder. He melts right against him. Robbe loves him, the thought rises in his mind unprovoked, unprompted, he _loves_ you, _he loves you, he loves you, **he loves you.**_

“You know you shouldn’t smoke while being on meds right?”, the words are whispered right into his shoulder.

“Mhmm”, Sander can’t comprehend a word except the incessant tide of warmth seeping into his bones.

**_“I love all things about you. Your heart, your soul, my love”_ **

He pulls slightly away to look at him. They’re still swaying gently. The streetlight streaming in through the open window illuminates Robbe’s face and Sander doesn’t think he could be anymore in love. _‘Love conquers all’_ , he thinks and he feels hope blossoming in his heart like a flower blooming in the wake of the sun. 

He presses a kiss to his forehead and Robbe smiles, softly, and he feels the universe reflected in his eyes. He smiles back, just as soft, and the world turns a bit brighter even though his room is dark.

_" **I need you here beside me, forever and a day, a day."**_

Their foreheads touching and their arms around each other as the wind blows in through the open window, the world around them goes calm and Sander's eyes flick towards autumn rhythm and then back towards Robbe. _No,_ he thinks, _ **Robbe** is his favourite art._

**_"And no one else beside me. I love you, I love you. I do."_ **

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Comments are highly appreciated :))  
> Find me on tumblr: @feathers-n-silk


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